


blown

by life_unsolved



Series: the embraced. [4]
Category: L.A. By Night, LA by Night, Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade- L.A. By Night (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Dubious Consent, F/M, Panic Attacks, he doesn't hit her but he hurts her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/life_unsolved/pseuds/life_unsolved
Summary: It was like someone filled her head with cotton, and she had to fight the urge to give in to the feeling. If he was coming, she had to be ready. She dug her nails into her arm to try to ground herself. She begged whatever was listening that Chaz would be merciful for once, and just kill her when he found her. There was a knock at the door.Nelli finds out that scent is the sense that is most strongly tied to memory.





	blown

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. This is a look at Nelli and Chaz's relationship. It's set during Nelli's first year in Los Angeles. If you feel like this fic is missing any tags, please let me know. I did my best, but I'm sure I missed something. Please comment any tips or suggestions, I can't tell if I'm getting better at this writing thing. I listened to Wasteland, baby! by Hozier and High for This by The Weeknd while I wrote this, so you could try that if you want. There are no graphic descriptions of violence or sex, so if those bother you, you should be fine.

Nelli cursed quietly under her breath. It was raining in Los Angeles.  _ Since when did it rain in Los Angeles?  _ She did a graceful little hop, trying to avoid what was quickly become inches of water. Her footing stuttered for a second, and she could feel her beret begin to slip forward a little, dripping water in her face. “Shit,” she hissed again.

A warm hand grabbed her arm to steady her as she maneuvered around puddles in a pair of Jimmy Choo’s she could never wear again. “Careful, Miss.”

She almost glared at him, but after another near-stumble she allowed him to guide her for a moment as she tried to balance herself. She smiled back at the dark-haired man prettily, letting a little bit of her nature seep into her words as she spoke. “Don’t worry about me. You just keep that fabric dry for me, okay?” She knew the effect that she could have.

His eyes glazed over for a second, before dropping to her lips momentarily. She contemplated baring her fangs at the irritating man. He had the nerve to look at her like that, while he was wearing some off the rack thing that did  _ not  _ fit him very well. Victor mentioned in the beginning that she might be able to design a uniform for the team, and she was more than eager to start that project. Or, at least get some of them to a tailor. The rain picked up a little, and she wished she had listened to Victor.

He had offered to let her take one of his cars, but it seemed like a waste. It wasn’t as if she was going to the fabric district. She’d found a woman that seemed to be able to press patterns into fabric in a way that she hadn’t seen before and was delighted to learn that she lived in East LA. It was a short drive and only a slightly longer walk. She thought she was going alone. It shouldn’t have taken as long as it had, but she had the poorly dressed man behind her acting as dead weight. She’d told Victor that she’d be fine, but he insisted on security.

_ “You can never be too safe! And I mean, you don’t want to carry it all the back. I can get you someone, like, really quiet. It’ll be fine.” He was giving her his patented Victor Temple smile, eyebrow cocked. He didn’t seem like he was going to back down and she didn’t know him very well, but she already knew how stubborn he could be. _

She didn’t really trust him, but Abrams said that he thought they would make a good pair and she trusted Abrams. She owed him, more importantly. If Abrams wanted her to work with the stubborn man, then she would do her damndest to make him proud. Besides, Victor was nice.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t trust him. Chaz had been nice once, too. Very nice.

The guard shook his head for a moment, attempting to clear his thoughts. His hair flopped over his dark eyes for a moment, his cheeks dimpling as he offered her anxious smile. He nodded eagerly, “Of course, Miss. I won’t let anything happen to it. It’s going to be perfect, I promise.” She gave him a bland smile as she peeled his hand off of her arm. He had gone from steadying to grabby in a matter of moments. Looking like this could be exhausting sometimes. “You see to that.”

She continued to pick her way around the little puddles that seemed intent on ruining her outfit. She pulled her thin jacket around her tightly to no avail. The water darkened the front of her blouse and she wrinkled her nose. Her pants were fairing slightly better, but she wasn’t pleased.  _ Aren’t we supposed to be in a drought,  _ she thought viciously to herself. She didn’t bring anything to change in to and she sighed at the thought of staying in wet clothes until she got home. She wondered for a moment if Abrams would have something for her to wear before pushing the thought from her mind. Isaac, as he told her to call him when they met all those months ago, had done enough for her.

Abrams was the only person in the entire city she trusted. He had set her up with somewhere to live after she left San Francisco. He made sure she was taken care of. He’d taken to time to introduce her to Victor and if it worked out, and she was beginning to suspect it would, then Abrams would have started her career. None of that even compared to how much she owed him for helping her get out from underneath the Camarilla. From underneath Chaz.

God, Chaz. He was like the monster underneath her bed, except he had been in it. Her heart seemed to pull itself to pieces when he was mentioned. There was always a moment of hope. She wondered if it would ever fade, if she would always feel that way about him. She could live forever and not have enough time to deal with the way she felt about him. He inspired so much in her. Hope, love, mourning. Fear. She tried not to think about him. She usually failed. Donna seemed to want to think about him and that was enough to set them both off. Living with another person inside her body had been painful and confusing in the beginning. Now, it was starting to get annoying.

It had been months since Chaz and Donna, but everything still felt fresh some nights. She would often find herself resisting the urge to look over her shoulder, despite what Abrams said. He would figure out what she did. He would figure out where she was. He had to know where she was, there was no way he wouldn’t know. He always knew everything. Fucker.

In the first few weeks, she had holed herself away at Abrams’. He was very gracious about it, reassuring her that Chaz wouldn’t dare to show up in the middle of Anarch territory. The Hollywood and Highland had been the only part of LA that she’d been familiar enough with to even consider staying at. It had taken a while, but eventually she accepted that he wasn’t coming. She wasn’t sure whether she was disappointed or thrilled. He had to know where she was.  _ He doesn’t care about you,  _ Donna had whispered bitterly in her head. She'd been tempted to see if she could get a Tremere to manifest the spiteful woman, just so she could have the pleasure of kicking her ass again.

The rain started to come down properly, the gentle sprinkle giving way to a slightly more insistent pounding on the pavement. The city itself seemed to have stilled under the cleansing, the cloud cover giving the architecture of East LA a hostile look. LA never slept, but there weren’t many people out and no one seemed to pay the two of them any mind as they passed.

The rain had a way of seeping into everything and slowing it down. It weighed on things.

She could see the club in the distance. It was closed for the next week or so, Victor was starting renovations in the basement and he couldn’t afford to have people poking around. She'd seen his plans for the area. She wasn’t impressed. The sign was still lit up in that bright neon red that he seemed to like. Behind her, the man,  _ Bryce, was it? _ stepped directly into a puddle and Nelli felt the back of her slacks dampen. She froze, feeling the water seep into her pants.  _ Fucking hell. _

“I’m so sorry, Miss! I didn’t mean to get you. Are you okay?” Bryce looked destroyed. She took an unnecessary breath. “It’s fine,” she said unconvincingly. He didn’t work for her. The last thing she needed was for it to get back to Victor that she’d snapped at his staff. He reached out for her again and she started moving away. “Let’s just get back to the club, okay?” He gave a soft nod of agreement, his eyes mournful. “I really am sorry, Miss. I can get you new pants, if you want? There’s a place around here, they make them real nice.”

She took in their surroundings and shook her head. There wasn’t a store for the next three blocks that would have something she could wear. “It’s fine. Let’s just get back.” She did her best to keep her irritation out of her voice, but she’d been told she had a shit poker face. Her companion fell silent.

They made their way quietly towards Club Maharajah. She could feel his eyes on her back and normally that would make her happy, but it only increased her ire. He held the employee entrance open for her as they made their way in. The door led to the kitchen, which was blessedly silent. Most of the kitchen staff were on leave during the renovations. The few cooks that Victor kept on retainer waved or nodded at her as she made her way out towards the front half of the club. She could see her warped reflection in the steel countertops. She tried not to look. She took in the scene as they passed through a small corridor that held the club bathrooms, and into the main hall.

The dance floor was brightly lit, but no music played. The DJ booth was abandoned, and a few people seemed to be checking on some of the equipment. Occasionally, there’d be a snippet of a song, but it was brief. A few of Victor’s security team greeted them as they walked by. They all seemed to be discussing something. She greeted a few familiar faces quickly, intent on trying to find a solution to her wet clothes situation. She looked back at Bryce behind her, before stopping a different member of the team.

“Excuse me, will you take these up to the workroom?” she asked, gesturing to the carefully wrapped fabric.

Victor had offered her an office after the first few months of working together, but she wasn’t sure about how long this would last. There was no need to put down unnecessary roots. He had been his usual insistent self and to get him off her back, she’d offered a compromise. The workroom was a space that she could create in. He’d had a table and mannequins brought up. He went a little overboard, buying anything that even resembled fashion supplies, but she appreciated the effort.

The man nodded, “Certainly, Miss. Actually, Mr. Temple told us to tell you that he’s meeting with an investor right now, and to head to his office when you returned. Bryce, you need to secure the construction team. Don’t let them scratch anything down there, and make sure that they don’t screw with the security system for the new exit.”

Bryce seemed to wilt further as the bundle was removed from his arms, “But-” She interrupted him before he really started to get on her nerves. “Thank you so much for your help, I really appreciate it. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

She flashed him her teeth in the way that she’d been taught and watched as some sense of self-preservation seemed to begin to stir. Camarilla life had its’ perks. Before he could respond, she headed for the stairs. Victor had offered her a key card for the elevators months ago. She regretted leaving it at home. She considered settling into the club more as she went up the stairs, mentally trying to figure out how she could decorate the workroom to make it more modern. She got up one flight of stairs, shoes and pants dripping, before she finally reached the limit of her patience. She turned to one of the security team on the second floor. “Will you key me into the elevator? I forgot mine.”

The two security members seemed to have been in the middle of a game of some sort, and they flushed with embarrassment at being caught. One of them, a young woman, jumped to attention, “Of course, Miss Nelli. Mr. Temple is expecting you.” The blond woman flashed her key and summoned the elevator. She watched Nelli walk in before murmuring, “Have a nice night.”

Nelli smiled back, whispering her thanks. She hit the button for the third floor, then she watched her shoes begin to drip water onto Victor’s hardwood. The mirrored panels reflected the mess back to her in triplet. He probably wasn’t going to be very pleased about that, but she doubted he would say anything about that. He still treated her as a guest, although he seemed to get more comfortable as the nights wore on. She wasn’t too pleased about his little escort. She shook one of her shoes carefully, willing more water onto the floor.

The doors opened with a soft  _ ‘ping’ _ and she startled for a moment, before stepping out onto the corporate level of the club. It was her favorite floor of the entire building. The exposed brick of the hallway contrasted beautifully with the ashen floors. Darkened pipes gave an industrial feel that was tempered by large fake plants. She admired some of the framed prints showing the city in all of its’ glory. She could admit, albeit begrudgingly, that he had good taste.

The light in Victor’s office was on underneath the closed door. She took a quick look in a large mirror set above a table in the hall as she passed, shedding her damp jacket onto the couch in the waiting area that was set up in the middle of the floor. She straightened her beret properly this time, taking a second to try to smooth her hair back in place. She adjusted her top, not stopping to look at her ruined shoes, and went up to Victor’s door. Before she could knock, it opened.

“Nelli! There you are. I thought you weren't going to make it back in time. Why don’t you come in and meet Mr. Addison?” Victor placed a careful hand on her back, barely touching her. He'd changed while she was away. He was slightly more casual when she first found him down at the renovation site. He'd been in a dark grey sweater and dark jeans. Now, he was in a navy suit. He traded his sweater for a white button up and maroon tie. It was a good look. She rarely saw him out of black, as with most of their kind. He looked nice.

There was a man smiling politely at her from behind Victor inside the office. There were a few gold records on the wall, and his leather chair had been pulled out from behind his desk. It seemed like they had been on their way out when she arrived. Mr. Addison was wearing black on black, and she took a moment to admire him. He was decently handsome, not her type, but still. His hair was sandy, pulled back into a long ponytail. He was scruffy in a way that made her want to run her hands over his jaw. If he was supposed to be investing in her, then maybe she had a chance. She took a moment to wonder what kind of business Mr. Addison did. He didn’t seem like anyone from Victor’s industry that she’d seen before.

She could hear the ceiling fan was making lazy rounds above them. She was reaching a hand out to introduce herself, when she hit with a sudden blast of him. Her fight or flight instincts kicked in and the Beast roared loudly in her chest. Every cell in her body tightened up and before she could stop herself, she was out of the room and into the hall. Her mind exploded in overwhelming panic. She was moving entirely too fast. She didn’t care. She kept running, blowing past the security member with the fabric, knocking him down in the process. She locked herself in the workroom, pushing a chair under the door handle. She knew that it wouldn’t be enough to keep him out. It hadn’t before.

She could distantly hear shouts of surprise. They sounded far away and everything inside of her head seemed to float for a moment. It was like someone filled her head with cotton and she had to fight the urge to give in to the feeling. If he was coming, she had to be ready. She dug her nails into her arm to try to ground herself. She could hear voices calling and a bit of arguing in the background. She didn’t care.

She sat on the floor across from the door, her back pressed against the wall. The brick was rough through the thin material of her shirt, pressing sharply into her. She pulled her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself as if that would hold her together. She tried to breathe in the workroom air, desperate to get the smell of him out of her.  _ It wasn’t him, it wasn’t him.  _ She repeated the mantra to herself even as she could hear muffled voices from the other side of the door. She couldn’t recognize the voices in this state. The door handle rattled, and the wave of panic rose over her again. Someone was calling her name.

If her heart could beat, it would be racing. She felt like she couldn’t breath. She didn’t need to, but she became obsessed with trying to even out her breaths. For a moment, she wondered if she was dying, before she remembered she was already dead. Chaz’s cologne seeped into her mouth without her permission. She remembered.

_ It had been her first real modeling job. She was in a private venue for an underground designer based in San Francisco. She had spent the last hour modeling dresses, jackets, jewelry. The job had gone off without a hitch. She’d felt stunning and from the crowd’s reaction, she knew that she wasn’t the only person who thought so. The designer had been pleased, inviting her to join the entourage and some of the other models for drinks. The after party was a slightly more intimate affair. She felt a little out place, standing in a corner as people began to socialize. _

_ He had walked up to her with a glass of champagne and a mischievous smile. “You were beautiful up there, darling. Just exquisite.” He was handsome. Dark haired, with the strangest gold eyes. She smiled nervously under his gaze. “Why, thank you. What a compliment that is coming from your lips.” He chuckled, seemingly amused by her obvious attempt at flattery. She wanted to kick herself. She took a sip of champagne, hoping to calm her nerves. “I haven’t seen you here before. What was your name again, darling?” He asked in a gorgeous accent. She blushed a little, “I’m Nelli.” She offered him her hand, growing redder as he pressed his icy lips to it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nelli. My name is Charles, but you may call me Chaz.” _

She pressed her hands against her eyes, hunching further into herself. He'd been wearing the same cologne for years. It was distinct and impossibly old. She wondered how anyone else could have gotten a hold of it.

_ “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she murmured hesitantly. Chaz raised an eyebrow at her. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. An excellent way to expand your portfolio, show that you’re more,” he hesitated for a moment, “agreeable to work with.” The photographer ignored them both as he set up for the shoot. He was getting the lights arranged around the camera, stopping every so often to look through the lens. The camera was facing a large white bed, with nothing other than a sheet thrown over it. There was a sheer canopy that should have created a light, airy, intimate feeling. She could only feel the lead in her stomach. _

_ She had never done anything like this. She hadn’t wanted to. She still didn’t want to. She felt a small rush of guilt. Chaz had gone to all this trouble to try to help her, and here she was being ungrateful. There was no way she could have been able to afford so many shoots on her own. She owed him. The least she could do was let him help her expand her portfolio. That didn’t stop the nerves that seemed to be manifesting as a swarm of bees inside of her. She curled her toes against the cold hardwood. _

_ Chaz stepped closer to her, his cold hands resting on her shoulders. “Trust me,” he purred, his eyes flashing. It was like a wave of adoration, love even, hit her. Of course she trusted him. She always trusted him. How could he even doubt that? She shrugged off her robe, handing it to him. She was still nervous, but determined. She could do this, if only because he wanted her to. She could feel the other man in the room pause for a moment, and she tried to still her nervous heart as his eyes seemed to take in her bare form. She felt so exposed. She tried not to let it get to her, crossing her arms over her naked chest. _

_ Chaz gave her a quick, cold kiss. “Now, go get on the bed and wait for instructions.” She raised her chin slightly and took a seat. The photographer checked the camera before making a few more adjustments, tweaking the light. There was a slight hum as the room got brighter. “Get further back on the bed and turn towards me.” She pushed herself into the middle of the ocean of white. “Now lay down, arch your back,” the buzz of the lights seemed to get louder. “And spread-” _

There was a constant buzzing in her ears now. It seemed to drown everything else out. She could only sit still and hope that he wouldn’t drag her back to that place. She begged whatever was listening that Chaz would be merciful for once, and just kill her when he found her. There was a knock at the door.

_ She was startled out of her reverie. Her heart was racing. She could feel the vitae coursing through her body like it did not so many months ago. She stared up at the ceiling and prayed whoever was knocking would go away. Chaz sat up next to her. “Don’t,” she whispered into the silent air. _

_ She wanted to reach out and grab him, keep him in this moment with her, but she knew better than to touch him after they finished. She curled her hands around the sheets instead, pulling them tighter to her chest. “Nelli, darling, you know there’s still work to do.” There was another knock at the door. “Just a minute,” he called in that appallingly charming accent of his. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, standing up. _

_ He picked up his clothes from off the dresser and began to dress quietly. She ran her eyes over him. Not a scratch. She could feel the soreness begin the settle into her hips, and her thighs, and- “Come on, darling. It’s time to make your leave.” She wondered how hard he must have grabbed her in order to make her ache. He was never that rough with her before. _

_ Chaz walked around to where she laid, offering her a hand. She took it numbly, wincing a little as she moved. She could feel where he tore into her back. He grabbed her dress from the floor, shaking the dark fabric a little as if to try to get the wrinkles out. It was funny how none of the Dior ever found itself on the ground. Or the Chanel, or Gucci. Somehow, her work always did. _

_ She had only put it on to show him. She thought he’d be proud of her. Something about her excitement seemed to awaken a need in him. He was always so rough then. Oddly, she was never excited by the time he was done with her. She put the dress on before running her fingers through her hair, moving on autopilot. _

_ She felt the moment her heart stopped beating again. She felt the moment Chaz let her go. The unnatural connection seemed to drain out of her the same way her blood had. She paused in the middle of gathering her jewelry. What had she done? Not again, please, not agai- _

_ His voice interrupted the chaos in her head. “Nelli?” Chaz asked, a deliberately blank look on his face. She tried for a smile, praying her voice didn’t shake. She was pleased when it came out surprisingly even and light, “Coming.” He raised an eyebrow playfully at her and she wondered if kindred could get sick. He opened the door for her, and she didn’t look to see who was standing outside of it before she started making her way back to her room. “Nice to see you again, Nelli.” Donna called after her in a falsely bright voice. She willed the vitae back into her eyes. _

She could feel it dripping on her cheeks. In some far-off place in her mind, she worried over her shirt. Her fingers seemed to have twisted into it and it took her a second to realize that it was already ruined. It was in shreds underneath her claws. She used a scrap of it to scrub her face.

_ She prayed that Chaz wouldn’t come in. It seemed that was all she was praying for lately. She’d modelled for him before at least a dozen times. She had been perfect. She was always perfect. Except for tonight. _

_ “Oh, Nelli,” he called as he entered her dressing room, shutting the door tightly behind him. He seemed unruffled, his suit perfectly pressed, not a hair out of place. She tried to smile at him through the mirror. He walked up behind where she was sitting in front of the make up table, resting his hands on her bare shoulders. She wished she didn’t model dresses all of the damn time. The last thing he needed was more access. Slacks were more practical anyway, and she made a silent vow to buy more. _

_ His fingers dug into her lightly. She tensed underneath him. “What are we going to do with you, my insolent, clumsy little thing?” She stopped breathing. He rubbed her shoulders for a few moments, as she tried to figure out how fast she would need to move to get to the door before him. Her eyes darted towards it involuntarily and when she looked back at him, he was watching her with an inhuman smile. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck- His hands held her a little tighter. He leaned down, setting his chin on her shoulder as he regarded them together in the mirror. _

_ “Chaz, I-” He moved before she could get the second word out completely, lightning fast. His hand was wrapped firmly around her throat. Not enough to stop her from breathing, but a warning all the same. She froze. “Nelli, I am so disappointed in you. How could you embarrass me like that? After everything I’ve done for you?” The hand gave a gentle squeeze. She knew logically that he couldn’t kill her like this, but the fear began to curl up her spine anyway. _

_ “Honestly, darling. I expect better out of you,” he whispered in her ear. Her stomach rolled. She didn’t respond. She knew she didn’t need to. The Beast snarled fearfully as his hand crept from her neck into her hair. She was expecting it when he pulled her head back. It didn’t make it hurt any less. He pressed a kiss to her temple. He reached his other hand out and grabbed her wallet off of the table. His grip grew tighter and she didn’t need to hear his next words to know what he was going to say. “If you take a step outside of your quarters within the next week, you’ll meet the sun. And if you ever embarrass me like that again, darling, you’re going to wish you had.” _

Her breathing finally began to slow. It could have been 30 seconds or 30 years, she wouldn’t have been able to tell. The voices outside the door had left and only now could she recognize one of them as Victor. She clambered to her feet unsteadily. She leaned against the wall, resting her head on it. She began to count all the bricks in the wall and tried to stop thinking. She couldn't.

_ She hadn’t meant to be alone with him. Camarilla parties could be dull, she just wanted a break. She didn’t notice him follow her out of the ballroom. She wandered through Elysium until she found a quiet room with a view of the bridge. The stars shone brightly, and she let herself get lost in the beauty. She didn’t hear him open the door or lock it behind him. Music started up gently in the background. He seemed to have just appeared at the window next to her. She tried to hide her surprise, but she could tell he noticed. He seemed to enjoy it every now and again. Her fear. _

_ Now he smiled at her darkly, his unnatural eyes illuminated by the moonlight. She hated that some part of her thought that they were still handsome. She tried to take a small step back and he matched her. In this moment, he was a predator. She was his prey. She wondered how he would kill her this time. He liked to draw it out. Tonight, there would be no exception. “Come here, dear,” he purred, reaching out for her. _

_ The music swelled distantly. She knew better than to resist. She took his hand and refused to wince when he pulled her close. He took her into his arms, starting up a complicated dance that left her struggling to keep up. She was a good dancer, but he had decades on her. He was doing something that she hadn’t even heard of. She tried to keep herself oriented towards the doors, but she struggled to keep track as he began to move faster. He seemed to be spinning her deliberately, trying to keep her off balance. She had to tap into her own Beast to keep up with him. He was going to end up dragging her if he moved any faster. _

_ The faint music from the hall slowed to a halt, and she found herself pressed against the wall, with Chaz settled between her legs. She knew what was going to happen. She would have rather dealt with the sex. “Please, don’t,” she whispered, trying not to cry. He always took so much from her. She was never sure if she was going to survive these special encounters. He had never done this in such a public place and to risk it with the rest of the Camarilla right outside of those doors meant that he was likely to make it worth his while. _

_ She didn’t even want to think about how he planned get the full value of what he was about to do to her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, not here-” He shushed her gently, tugging on a lock of her hair before taking her face in his hand. He studied her for a moment, delight dancing in his eyes. “It’s alright, dear. I’ll only be a moment.” _

_ He tilted her head to the side, and she tried to settle the monster in her chest who only wanted him off of her. He pressed a series of kisses into the column of her neck. She closed her eyes. There was a spark of pain as he entered her, then it faded into the familiar pleasure of the Kiss. It felt so good, it had always felt so fucking good and she didn’t want it to feel good anymore. She didn’t want him, she didn’t want- _

“Nelli?” Victor called from outside of the door. She snatched her hand away from her neck suddenly, as if she was burned. She cleared her throat, before looking into one of the mirrors on the wall. She tried to clean up the vitae frantically, before she called, “Coming.” She tried to make herself presentable as she walked to the door. She pulled the chair away, suddenly embarrassed. She took a deep breath before she unlocked it. She opened the door and Victor was standing there with a look of bewilderment.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly, suddenly unsure of herself. He raised his eyebrows at her. “Hi? You used Celerity in front of a human and all you have to say is “Hi”?” He asked, annoyed. She glared at him, hair on the back of her neck standing up. “I don’t have to explain myself to  _ you. _ I thought I saw something,” she snapped back. Victor narrowed his eyes at her, stepping fully into the room and looking around.

“Okay, well I don’t know how you guys do things in the Camarilla, but around here we try not to expose ourselves unnecessarily. You can't just-” He sighed. “You know what? Never mind. It's fine, but try not to do it again, okay? I can take care of it, but I’d rather not have to.” She waited for him to continue. He seemed content to watch her and some part of her was tempted to try to get past him before he could get his hands on her. He took a step in her direction and she scrambled back.  _  I knew it, I knew it, I knew- _

“Nelli? You okay?” he asked, stopping short. He scanned the room again, as if he was looking for something. His brow furrowed and he took a half step towards the door, away from her. “Is it back? Whatever you saw, did it come back?” The nerves begun to creep into his voice, and it was almost comical that a man that large would be afraid of anything. She shook her head a little.

“I- I didn’t see anything. I just thought I did.” She explained quietly, not taking her eyes off of him. He straightened his suit jacket, “What did you think you saw?” He was still sweeping the room carefully, taking subtle glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. She saw the moment he noticed her shirt and the blood. He didn’t say anything, and his eyes didn’t linger. She was grateful.

“I- I thought I saw a rat.” She lied clumsily. He stopped his inspection, turning to look directly at her. He was silent for a long moment. He started to speak before stopping abruptly. She could see him thinking and silently pleaded that he would drop it for now. “I don’t have rats,” he muttered, offended. She rolled her eyes and suddenly, she could breathe a little better.

“I know you don’t. I just  _ thought  _ I saw one. I don’t like rats.” She took a careful step closer to him. He nodded understandingly, “I’m not a big fan of dogs.” She felt the edges of her mouth pulling into an involuntary smile. He let out a soft exclamation, before handing her a bundle she hadn’t noticed him holding. “Your fabric,” he explained.

She whispered her thanks, setting the fabric on the work table. “Did you at least find what you were looking for,” he asked as he took a step towards the table, as if to inspect the cloth as she pulled it out. She hid it quickly, covering it with a half-finished design. “It’s a surprise,” she insisted, “and yes, I did. Thank you.”

He waved her away, “Sure. No problem. Abrams says to get you what you need, so what you want, you got.” She nodded. Another hint of Chaz’s cologne seemed to hit her as he moved. She bit back the bile. She spoke as quickly as she could, not breathing. “Thank you so much, Victor. I’m sorry about your meeting. Will you excuse me for a moment?” Yellow eyes glowed in her head.

She walked past him and headed for the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I projecting? Probably.


End file.
